


Consummation (or, The Butler, Rumpled)

by Archangel_Beth



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, No Plot, Ose, Really really bad ideas, References to Abuse, messed up angst, more ose, not a healthy fluffy pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Beth/pseuds/Archangel_Beth
Summary: This is, I confess, angst and dark and moody and somewhat -ose. IT WAS EATING MY BRAIN. The only way to exorcise such a ficbunny (ficbunnicula) is to write it and inflict it on other people.Based on the Black Butler Live Action Movie (2014) continuity.
Relationships: Genpou Shiori/Sebastian Michaelis
Kudos: 1





	Consummation (or, The Butler, Rumpled)

_If you are reading this on an app with in-app purchases or subscriptions, know that this story is available at https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Beth , and Archive Of Our Own ("AO3") permits epub downloads; I like the Marvin app for iOS; small one-time fee, and lovely by-author sorting. **If you have paid money for this story, you have been cheated.**_

* * *

* * *

It takes Shiori all day to be brave enough to say, "My revenge will not be complete if the family name dies with me."

Sebastian pauses only briefly in wrapping her dressing gown over her shoulders, a hesitation only noticeable because he is normally so inhumanly perfect. "There are certain complications with that," he murmurs neutrally.

The obvious complication is, of course, that Shiori is posing as her fictional bastard half-brother, Kiyoharu, because the heir must be male. Sebastian knows, of course. The servants know or guess, and keep their silence. But finding someone else who could keep the secret, possibly needing to find a "wife" who would be even more circumspect...

But the worst complication isn't the obvious one.

" _You_ can't hurt me," she says, staring out the window into the darkness. (She shouldn't, not while there's any light inside the room. It's foolish, and she steps away to a space between windows where a sniper can't see.)

"Sir," he says, "it is entirely inappropriate for a butler—"

She cuts him off. "That's not all you are." And into his silence, she adds, "I don't believe there is any other way to... work through the issues."

His clothing rustles, and when she turns, he has bowed — which is acquiescence.

Shiori is not relieved.

* * *

It takes her... far less time than she had thought, to endure his touch. To tolerate it.

To anticipate.

Enjoy.

Desire.

It doesn't seem to be helping with her panic and revulsion when she thinks of anyone _else_ , though — but he doesn't ask, after that first time. He is, of course, as perfect a gentleman-butler in her bed as he is at any other time, in any other place. He draws her down, upon him, and his inhuman strength supports her when the raw, physical sensations of her body consume misgivings and nightmares. She lies upon his chest, catching his breath, and the black fingernails that trail along her spine are gentle. Discreet. Perfect and precise as everything he does.

Shiori wishes she could turn into a cat. She suspects he likes them better.

* * *

Eventually, she realizes that while he is attentive to _her_ pleasure, he never seems to have his own climax. When she asks...

"It is... difficult to explain," he says, with a very precise twist of his hand in the air as he sits beside her on the bed. "The body alone is... insufficient."

Suddenly bitter, Shiori asks crudely, "You'll only cum when you're eating my soul?"

His eyes flicker to a dark red for a moment, she thinks, though it might just be shadows. He breathes, "Not... _only_."

The feeling in her stomach is terror. She's quite familiar with it. But she says, "If it won't _damage_ me, I suppose it would be fair."

"You would heal," he says, with his hand so light against her cheek. Her nod is tiny, but of course he feels it.

She lets him push her down, take her wrists in his hands, cover her body with his. It's terror and nightmares in the dark, with teeth against her neck.

And yet, this is her devil, her Sebastian.

He would pull her to safety with his fingers wrapped around her wrists like manacles, because of their pact.

When his body finally mimics a human pleasure, she is sobbing, eyes squeezed closed. But she grabs for his hands when her own are freed, and after a moment... (she can nearly see him in her mind, looking down at her like a disinterested cat) ...he kisses her tears.

Perhaps they're dessert.

Or an appetizer.

* * *

It is pure idiocy, to continue this affair with a devil. Idiocy compounded by something so far beyond idiocy that Shiori doesn't think there's a _word_ for it, that she offers him a chance for his own climax whenever she can bear it.

But she does it anyway. Relives fear beneath him, tangled with desperate need for his rescuing hands. And when she realizes how she feels about him... Self-disgust at her foolishness.

Once, after he has pulled away, she opens her eyes and the moonlight is bright enough to see his expression. Just a glance, but he looks smug. Pleased. For a moment, she expects he will open his mouth like a cat to lick the sides of his mouth, or perhaps raise a paw to wash away the last bits of fish.

It makes her think that perhaps it is exactly her emotions of fear and abasement that let him find a devil's release in a man's body. That when he pushes her into the dark memories, flesh joined... 

Somehow, he is licking her soul.

Like catnip.


End file.
